Queen of the Dead
by soloscribe
Summary: Set at the end of 3.1 "What Doesn't Kill You..." some musings into the mind & history of Maura Isles. Explores the revelations at the end of this episode and her decision regarding her job at Boston homicide.


_Character piece centered around 3.1 "What Doesn't Kill You." I own nothing, this is property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro & TNT. I borrowed some dialogue from 3.1 and from season 1's "I'm Your Boogie Man." Enjoy._

Dr. Maura Isles, M.E. isn't really sure how she ended up kneeling at this grave. The last thing that really registered was Jane telling _I got something I need to show you,_, and she's still not sure why she came. But she _is_ sure that this grave was the last thing she ever could have expected.

They had rounded the row of headstones, and when she looked and really _saw_ what was before her… Well, she's still not sure how she ended up kneeling. Staring. And the wetness dripping down her cheeks make her add _crying_ to the detached list in her mind.

_Baby Maura Doyle_

_Born August 7, 1976_

_Died August 7, 1976_

"_Safe from all earthly harm"_

When the words finally clicked in her brain, it took her breath away. Sucker punched. After the last week, she could have sworn that nothing else would shock her… but she would have been wrong. Dead wrong.

She's staring at her own grave, and one small piece of her past clicks solidly into place. _Why she never searched for me._ It makes it easier and worse all at once. But realizing that Paddy Doyle, criminal and murderer, got to see all of those moments of her life—awards, graduations. Thief. He stole her from her mother, stole her and her mother from each other.

_Queen of the Dead._

Maura knows what they call her. She's heard it whispered, in hushed tones when they think she isn't nearby or can't overhear. But now… the irony of it hits her, because she _is_ Queen of the Dead. She didn't exist, or wasn't supposed to exist. Had Maura Doyle lived a few minutes, a few hours? Or was she declared dead at birth?

Up to this point, her life has been a lie. Her mother, adoptive, knew things. And kept them from her. Doyle knew everything, and he dropped in at his own whim the last two years, keeping her almost entirely in the dark. And when she thinks she finally knows him, finally believes he is only protecting her… he admits he would have shot the others. Her friends.

How disturbing that the one person who finally has told her the truth is the one she isn't sure she wants to see. And maybe she now wishes that Jane had killed Paddy. Maybe wondering about her past was so much better than knowing.

And here in the stillness, kneeling in the grass, she realizes her life is of its own making. Despite the Isles' charity work and academics, Maura chose to side step that life. Rather than a business degree to manage non-profits, she chose medicine. Her college education was on her own merit, academic scholarships and research grants. And while she was exposed to humanitarian work growing up and paraded through Europe, she really learned about the world through _Medicins Sans Frontieres _ and her work in the Boston police department.

Everything seems to have crumbled; her world is in chaos. She has two parents, with whom she has recently tried to build bridges only to see the supports yanked out from underneath them. Both still in the hospital with long recoveries. Maura's not really sure _where_ her adoptive father is. Still in Tanzania, perhaps?

A small part of her, the part that came alive these past years at Boston police, wants very much to allow Jane back in—to lean on Angela and all the care she is offering. But everything is still too raw. She has barely regained composure, and Maura fears what will happen if it slips again. Besides, everyone she has let into her life so far… well, she was right when she told Angela that she was used to being alone.

It's better this way. As Jane is walking away, the stillness is settling around her again, and she can finally think. And then it occurs to her that she _has_ made her own life, and she'll be damned if she's going to let someone take that away from her, too. "Jane, wait."

The brown eyes looking back at her are soulful, and for another split second she is torn and tempted to reach for the promise of a harbor for a while. But she holds back. She doesn't ask for much. She still doesn't know how, and she wonders how long until Jane and Angela don't have time for her any more.

"Tell Pike I want my chair back." It's not an olive branch or an apology. She's not sure what it is, except she _is_ sure she wants this part of her life back. She can do many things, but this is her security, and she's craving the feel of a scalpel and the clinical exactness of the morgue. For now, it's all she can do, and it will have to be enough.


End file.
